Victims of Destiny
by FromTheCouncilOfTimeWizards
Summary: One day in one of Merlin's many seventh years at Hogwarts, he meets someone who reminds him of himself. One day in Harry's fifth year, he meets someone who understands what it's like. Post S5 for Merlin. Oneshot.


**Disclaimer: Merlin belongs to BBC, Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I am neither of those. **

**Yeah, I know, I have lots of other stories to work on. But I thought of this and just...wrote. And this was the result. **

Merlin gazed out at the scene of the lake shining beneath the silver of the sky. He would never get tired of attending Hogwarts. He had many times before already, each time waiting until he was forgotten and then de-aging himself to be a teenager once again. He'd attended under various names, but always kept some of it the same. Sometimes his last name was Emrys, or some of the other names he'd been given. He could have created an entirely false identity, but he did not want to loose himself in the centuries that had passed since that painful day when he'd sent Arthur out on the lake. Sure, the grief had been unbearable. He'd wondered if he would ever get used to living without his master and friend. But he'd moved on. He had no choice, after all. So he clung to the little things that made him Merlin. When Arthur returned from Avalon, he wanted his friend to recognize him.

With the looming war against Voldemort, Merlin had been hoping to see Arthur somewhere, or any indication that his friend was returning. But this was a magic war. Arthur was the other side of the coin - the side that got things done without magic. It was a war of sorcerers, of wizards, and that was not Arthur's field.

Besides, it had become clear to Merlin that there was someone else destiny had appointed worthy of stopping Voldemort. He had to admit, it was strange watching the weight of the world being transferred off his shoulders and onto those of an orphaned teenager.

He felt for Potter. He knew what it felt like to feel like you were the only one who could fix things. He knew what it felt like to face things others couldn't even imagine, and to have them discarded carelessly. He knew the sting of betrayal, the crushing pressure of expectation to be the hero from those who did not hate him.

He sighed. It was hard to stay out of things. He was used to throwing himself into danger to save people. Sitting by and watching others do it was not in his nature.

But for once, this was not his responsibility. There was the prophecy, Merlin knew. He had contacts. He knew many seers that were descendants of druids. He'd even met someone who he had traced his bloodline back to Freya's family.

This time, it was not his job.

His peaceful setting was shattered as the clatter of angry footsteps approached at a rapid pace.

Harry was not having a good day. True, his whole year so far had been awful. But today was particularly horrible. After a nasty lesson with Snape, he'd gone to a detention with Umbridge and returned to Ron and Hermione bickering some more. Something about Hermione's most recent theory - something about Merlin still being alive - that she had been explaining at light speed, and Ron moaning about how NOBODY CARED what some dusty old historian might think, and Hermione retaliating with something about how just because Ron didn't hope to accomplish anything in life...

He needed some fresh air. Not really caring where he was going, he stormed through the castle and turned at the first balcony he saw...only to find that someone else was already there.

He paused. He was about to turn away quietly when whoever it was turned around. Feeling it would be awkward to leave after he'd burst in and saw the other student, he walked out over the terrace.

He sent a sideways glance at his companion. He'd seen him around the castle, he thought. Racking his brains, he tried to come up with an identity.

Marley Emrys, a seventh year Slytherin.

Harry's heart sank. As a Slytherin, Emrys probably was one of those people enjoying the general assumption that he was an arrogant, attention seeking weirdo.

"It's relaxing, isn't it?"

He was surprised when Emrys spoke. His voice was not hostile or aggressive.

"Yeah." He turned to look, really look at Emrys. Dark locks framed his thin face, which was looking at Harry with a strange, knowing expression. His blue eyes, which seemed older than his face, seemed to be analyzing the boy before him. Feeling slightly awkward, Harry cast around for something to say.

"You had a bad day too, or just some free time?"

Emrys gave a laughing sigh and looked back out at the scene. "I have lots of bad days, and lots of free time."

Harry tried to refrain from raising his eyebrow. He wasn't exactly in the mood for cryptic responses, but Emrys looked utterly at ease, and having a stranger not regard him with wariness, fear or contempt was refreshing.

"It's tough, isn't it?" the older student said finally.

Harry looked at him sharply, anger starting to come back to him. What did this person know about his life? What could he possibly think Harry's life was like?

Emrys didn't seem to notice his companion's thoughts. "So much pressure, so much at risk...and most people think you're something you're not."

Harry swallowed. He couldn't deny what he'd just said.

"You seem to know about it."

"Oh, I do," Emrys said mildly. Harry could only stare. This boy, who really seemed more like a man, was unlike anyone he'd ever met. The strange air of detached confidence reminded him of Luna Lovegood.

"And how would you know that?"

Merlin turned to face the young, scared boy in front of him. He wanted to tell him. For once, tell some one absolutely everything. He wanted to tell Harry that if you could get through the worst of it, it got better. He wanted to tell him that he was not the only person to have suffered like this.

_Why not?_ A little voice in the back of his mind said. He'd gone a thousand plus years without telling anyone his true identity. And Harry honestly looked like he could use a little hope.

He leaned in, and Harry unconsciously do the same.

"Harry," he said in a low voice. "I'm going to tell you something I haven't told many people. It's my big secret, not many get to know it."

He saw the boy raise an eyebrow, apparently wondering if he was full of it.

"I'm Merlin."

It took a moment for the strangeness of this statement to register. Then, as expected, Harry scoffed disbelievingly.

"No, seriously."

Merlin smiled. Over the years, he'd had lots of time to study all branches of magic. He'd spent a considerable amount of time on memories. He'd wanted to be sure he'd be able to keep them all over the centuries. To remember his purpose when things were looking to bleak. To remind him of what would return when he was alone and aching for the years that he could not get back. When the pensieve had been invented, he'd been one of the first purchasers.

But he'd also figured out some pretty useful skills with his tinkering.

He reached out and touched Harry's temples. Predictably, the teen jerked back, surprised and a little creeped out. But then the memories started.

Befriending the biggest prat in the five kingdoms. Looking up at the great dragon as he piled on the weight of destiny. Watching his friends nearly be killed, and fearing that their blood would be on his hands. The utter, desolate loneliness as the others saw him as an idiot. A lovable idiot, but still an idiot. And worst of all, not knowing if all his pain and loss would be worth it in the end.

Harry jerked back, eyes wide. In that moment, Merlin's concentration slipped. He fell into Harry's memories. His so-called family using him like a servant, taking every chance to make his life hell. Watching a fellow student die in front of him. Torture, fear, and danger. And now every eye in the magical world was on him, half of them eagerly awaiting his downfall.

For a moment, neither could speak.

"I...erm...sorry," Harry mumbled. "You're right...you do know."

Merlin smiled, the first genuine smile in a long time.

Minutes later, Harry left the terrace looking considerably less depressed, and probably thinking _Bloody hell, I just met MERLIN._

But Merlin stayed. He stood, watching, as the sky grew darker, even though Filch would probably come around soon and threaten him with a whip if he didn't get in his common room.

He stayed to enjoy the temporary break in his bleak solitude.


End file.
